


So Close

by Shotgunpicksthemusic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Christmas Fluff, M/M, advent fic, some sexual situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5423183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shotgunpicksthemusic/pseuds/Shotgunpicksthemusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Star light, star bright...</p><p>A Christmas wish?  A miracle?  or Monster?  Dean's not sure.  All he knows is Sam's married with kids, they live the suburban life sharing a house, and, oh yeah, he's dating Cas.  Dean needs to find his way back to his life, but if he does, will he even want to go?</p><p>part of the tumblr Destiel Christmas Mini Bang, prompt: Star</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Close

**Author's Note:**

> My partner for this fic was [glorioustiel](http://glorioustiel.tumblr.com/), who makes amazing art. You should go check them out and follow them. Definitely follow them. :D
> 
> Thanks to all who read, comment, and kudo. Y'all rock!
> 
> Thanks to [wevyrdove](http://wevyrdove.tumblr.com/) for the support and for also making a gorgeous picture to go with this fic! (you should follow her too :D )

[](http://imgur.com/Mu0djdC)

[ ](http://imgur.com/xlrDJtd)

Art by [glorioustiel](http://glorioustiel.tumblr.com/)

Cleaning sucked. Dust floated in the air, tickling his nose, making him sneeze. His skin felt gross, sticky and coated with dead guy dirt. Dean coughed as a swirl of dust slid off the latest box he pulled from the shelf.

He carried the box over to the table. Books, papers and artifacts littered the surface, separated haphazardly into ‘put in library’, ‘box up to never see the light of day’, ‘use to mess with Sam’, and ‘toss/donate’ piles. Dean sneezed again, almost dropping the box in his hands. He got it onto the table in time, though.

“Doing okay?” Sam’s voice floated through the door. He was in the room across the hallway, sorting through his own pile of junk. Dean glared at the door, not even caring that Sam couldn’t see his dark look.

“I’m fine. Why are we doing this again?” he asked, sniffing. He turned the box on the table so that it faced him longways and carefully slit the tape that held it closed with his knife before sliding the knife back in his pocket.

“Because it needs to be done and cases have been slim,” Sam answered. He popped his head in the doorway. “I’m going to get something to drink. Want anything?”

“A beer.” Dean pulled a string of lights out of the box and held them up at Sam. “Hey, Christmas lights. Want to put them up?”

“Why?” Sam looked perplexed by the suggestion.

“I don’t know.” Dean shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt. It’s just lights. We could do with some holiday cheer around here.”

“Yeah, because Christmas has worked out so well for us before.”

Sam left before Dean could say anything in response. Dean sighed and, after carefully rolling the lights up, put them in the keep pile.

Outside the bunker, snow fell thickly from the sky and piled high in drifts. It was that sticky, wet snow that made snowballs fly so well, but was hell to drive through. Sam was right, cases were slim, almost as if the monsters were taking the holidays off, and everything had been quiet, hushed under a blanket of white stuff. Which shouldn’t bother Dean. After all, slim cases meant nobody dying. Dean was going stir crazy, though, and even this busy work of going through the bunker’s rooms wasn’t enough.

He sighed deeply, moving back over to the shelf. It held other boxes of what he figured was more Christmas stuff. He wondered how the Men of Letters had celebrated. Did they hold parties? Slay some beasts? Sing Whoville songs? He snorted in laughter at the thought of the straight-laced members holding hands in a circle and swaying as they sang carols.

The next box held a snow globe and Dean amused himself by shaking it, watching the glittering snow fall onto a cabin surrounded by pines with a horse drawn sleigh in front. Sam came in then, handing him a bottle. Dean held up the snow globe with a grin, that grin fading when Sam gave him a blank look, turning and walking away without a word.

“Party pooper.” Dean put the snow globe on the table in the giveaway pile. He popped the top off his beer and was about to take a drink when his phone beeped at him. Pulling it out of his pocket, he smiled at the text from Cas.

_I’m stopping for the night in Dayton. Are you having a good night? :)_

_Sam’s making me clean_ , Dean texted back. _And he apparently hates Christmas, but I kind of knew that._

_I am not sure I understand the practice of celebrating the holiday, but I find it fascinating. Of course, I have only the information I've observed in media to go by. It seems stressful and full of conflict, yet it is framed as a joyful time._

_Yeah, Cas, I know all about that. It’s just fun, usually. Well, for other people, it is. You're supposed to care about your fellow man, and shit like that._

_What is fun about it?_

_I’ll tell you when you get here_ Dean typed out, thinking of eggnog, watching crappy movies, and cookies and pie. _Drive safe._

_I will. Tell Sam I said hello._

_Yeah, Cas, will do._

_Good bye, Dean. :D_

Cas and his damn emoticons. Dean shook his head, still smiling, and slid his phone back in his pocket, taking a last pull on his beer, putting the bottle down. He pulled the next box down and placed it on the table to open it. This box was stuffed with old newspapers and he carefully lifted them out, setting them on the table. Nestled securely inside the paper was a star, a tree topper by the look of the stem at the bottom. It was multicolored glass, banded by silver, and it glittered in the light. Dean pulled it out, brushing the edges clean of lint, and held it up, examining it.

He was mesmerized by the rainbow colors. Lightly tracing the edges, he smiled softly, a memory of his mother rising. She had a star like this, one that graced the top of the tree. He barely remembered it, the soft lights on the green branches, his mom singing, what song was it? _What Child Is This_. That’s right.

He remembered his dad holding him up, helping him put the star on the top of the tree. He huffed harshly and almost threw the star on the table. What good were memories like that? It was just a reminder of what he’d lost, what he could never have.

His grip on the star tightened, though. What would it hurt, to decorate a little? He could show Cas how you celebrated the holiday. Even if Sam was being a scrooge, they could have fun. Get a turkey or a ham, put up a small tree, give each other a little gift. Hadn’t they earned it, after all the bullshit they’d been through with the Mark and the Darkness?

He placed the star carefully back in the box and closed it. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he headed across the hallway to where Sam was back at work.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, putting the book he was leafing through down on a stack of books.

“Going out for a bit. I’ll bring back dinner, okay?”

“Sure. Heard from Cas?”

“He’s staying over in Dayton.” 

“It’ll be good to have him here again.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, trying to be casual. He leaned on the doorway and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I figured I’d pick up a few things, food, beer, a tree…”

“A tree.” Sam lifted his eyebrow at Dean, giving him a look.

“Just a little one. Come on, Sam, Cas has never had a Christmas. I just thought it’d be nice to do it, just once.”

“Right. Well, get some eggnog,” Sam said, smiling.

“So you can spike it again?” Dean shook his head at Sam’s laughter. “You’re okay with this?”

“Christmas is complicated for us, Dean,” Sam sighed. “The last one we had…”

“I remember.” Dean’s voice was quiet and he turned his head, not looking at Sam.

“But I’m okay with it, I guess. Just,” Sam shrugged, “I’m not sure I want to get into decorating, or anything.”

“I got you. I’ll be back soon.” Dean smiled and left the room. He needed a shower first, then he had to put chains on the Impala and then hit the road.

~~*~~

By the time he got back to the bunker, most of his enthusiasm for Christmas had drained. It seemed everyone was out shopping in full force and the holiday spirit was cantankerous and bitter. Dean had bought a small tree, but he left it propped up in the garage where it was cool, figuring he’d get it in the morning.

He rolled his shoulders, wincing at the tightness. Maybe when Cas got there, they could decorate it together. They’d dig up some ornaments from storage, maybe find some more lights.

Dean called out to Sam when he entered, snorting slightly with laughter at the state of Sam’s hair when he appeared. It was sticking up in a ton of different directions and looked like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket. Sam shot him an exasperated look and simply ran his hands through it, smoothing it back into place.

They talked quietly through dinner. Sam offered to clean up and Dean let him, heading to his room to watch some netflix before bed. He walked into his room, surprised when he saw the box with the star sitting on his nightstand. Glancing at the door and wondering why Sam had put it in his room, he sat down on the bed, pulling the box into his lap.

It was just as beautiful as before, glimmering and shining, catching the light in a splash of colors. Dean traced one of the points of the star, the glass smooth and cool under his fingertip. He closed the box back up and put it back on his nightstand, grabbing his computer and settling in. It didn’t take long, just a few episodes, and he was falling asleep, the computer sliding off his lap and landing on the bed next to him.

[ ](http://imgur.com/e6K54vV)

~~*~~

“Shhhh.” A slight giggle tickled his ears. Dean moved slightly, curling his toes under the blanket. He drew in a slow, deep breath, letting it out in a yawn, and stretched.

“You’re gonna wake him!”

“Good!”

A flying body landed square on his stomach and the breath was pushed out of Dean’s body, leaving in a whoosh. He groaned, but sat up, scrambling back, looking around wildly for the threat.

Perched in the middle of his bed was a chubby cheeked child, her hazel eyes shining.

“Uncle Dean! I lost a tooth!” She grinned widely, showing she did indeed have an impressive gap in the front of her teeth.

“So what?” Another little girl climbed onto the bed. Her blond hair was pulled up into curly ponytails that swung back and forth when she shook her head. “Everyone loses teeth,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain.

“It's cool,” the first child said, glaring at the second. She turned to Dean and reached out, touching the blanket that covered his leg. “Tell her Uncle Dean, tell Alana that it's awesome to lose a tooth and have the tooth fairy visit.”

“Uh, it is awesome. Because you get money, right?” Dean ventured, his voice hesitant.

“See, Uncle Dean said it's awesome!”

Confident she had won the argument, she climbed up further on the bed and sat on Dean's lap, throwing her arms around his neck. Dean smiled weakly at her, giving a nervous chuckle.

“Alana, Katie?”

“Daddy, we're in here!”

Sam poked his head into the room. He smiled at his daughters.

“Bugging Dean, are we?”

“You _said_ to,” Alana said. She turned to Dean, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “It's time to go get the tree. You promised to take us in Baby.”

“I still don't know why you two love that car so much,” Sam said, shaking his head.

“Hey, don't you knock my car,” Dean protested, which caused the girls to giggle.

“Yes, Dean, I promise to be nice to your Baby.” Sam rolled his eyes, then motioned with his arm to his girls. “Come on, let's let Dean get up. You need to get your coats on, anyway.” He smiled at Dean. “Meet you in the garage?”

“Yeah, I'll be there,” Dean said, rubbing his hand across his mouth. Another freaking alternate universe? How many did that make at this point?

He watched them leave, then slid out of bed, checking things out. He was still wearing the clothes he'd gone to sleep in—faded Scorpions t-shirt and boxers, but his room was different. Brick walls were now wallpapered with a flower print. His memory foam mattress was a sturdy but simple king bed with plain blue colored sheets and a thick comforter, not the scratchy wool blanket from the bunker. The furniture was all white, the floor carpeted with a tan plush pile, and there was a large window with filmy curtains that overlooked a sweeping backyard currently buried under drifts of snow.

' _Awesome_ ,' he thought, moving toward the dresser.

Photos lined the top and he picked one up, staring at it with his mouth agape. Cas stood next to him in the picture, his arm around Dean's waist, his face tilted up. He had that wide, gummy, nose scrunched smile that made Dean's heart thump extra hard, and it was turned on the Dean in the photo. Who was smiling back at Cas with the dopiest grin Dean had ever seen. Putting the frame down, he looked at the other photos.

There was Sam and Jess, with the two girls on the beach. His mom and Dad, sitting on a couch and waving at the photographer. There was a picture of Cas and Dean in tuxes, younger versions of them, probably prom, he guessed from the atrocious background. He snorted softly and sighed. What kind of freaky world had he ended up in?

He shook his head, opening a drawer to find his clothes folded neatly, and pulled out what he needed to get dressed. Frowning, he considered what he did know.

He hadn't been working a case. That probably ruled out witches, djinn, and anything else he knew that could alter dimensions. For a second, the absurdity of actually being used to being thrown into another world hit him, but he shook it off. There was time for a freak out later. Right now, he needed to know where he was and how to get back, and he had to play along, at least for now, until he knew a bit more.

Once dressed, he headed out, finding his way through the house. His leather jacket hung in a closet by the front door and he could hear Sam, Jess, and the girls in another room. He followed the sound of their voices to the kitchen.

“Dean, you aren't going to wear a scarf or hat?”

Dean couldn't hold back the smile at seeing Jess. He pulled her into a hug with a grin. If nothing else, at least Sam was happy in this world and talking to him, which was a step up from the last one.

“I'm good,” he said, letting her go.

She smiled at him and turned, gathering her girls to her for a kiss and a hug.

“Listen to your dad and Dean, you hear?” The girls nodded and Jess went on tiptoes to kiss Sam lightly. “Don't take too long,” she said. “Cas will be back soon.”

“Where did he go?” Dean tried to sound casual, but his voice rose a bit and his lip curled in a nervous smile.

“Shopping. I know you're horrible about wanting to know what your gifts are, but too bad, buddy. You'll just have to deal, Winchester.”

“He could if he wasn't so nosy,” Sam teased, laughing when Dean's cheeks darkened.

Dean pushed past him, not quite sure how to respond. He opened the door to the garage and couldn't hold back a sigh of relief. The Impala gleamed in the soft light, every inch of her polished and perfect.

Sam got the girls inside in the back seat and settled in the front. Dean slid into his seat, running his hands along the wheel.

“The lot isn't too far, Dean,” Sam said, pulling up directions on his phone and hitting the clicker to open the garage door.

“You better have brought a blanket,” Dean warned, starting the car.

“I put one in the trunk. Wouldn't want pine sap on your car, I know.”

“Damn straight.”

“Uncle Dean said a bad word!”

Sam laughed, Dean shook his head, smoothly backing out, and they were on the way.

~~*~~

The damn tree was massive, so Dean felt no problem in letting Sam carry it in by himself. He'd voted for a smaller tree but had been shot down. Sam and Jess were working on the tree, getting it set up and stringing lights on it.

Dean was drawn into making snowflakes with the girls, cutting the shapes out carefully for them. They sat cross-legged on the floor, paper, scissors, stickers, glue and glitter spread out before them.

“Blue glitter is best. Right, Uncle Dean?”

“Well...”

“No, silver is better.” Alana frowned at her sister.

“I think both kinds of glitter are good,” Dean said, trying not to sneeze at the particles that were getting every damn where. “Blue is like the sky, right? I think it's my favorite color.”

Katie said a loud, “yes!” and fist pumped, which drew a chuckle from Dean.

“But silver, well, that's stars. And what would the sky be without stars?”

Alana glanced at Katie and grinned, her grin growing wider at the answering look of mischief in her sister's eyes. Dean was concentrating on cutting out the next snowflake—he never saw it coming.

A cloud of glitter rained down on him, coating his hair in blue and silver sparkles. He blinked at the two girls, then playfully growled at them, causing them to shriek and scramble away.

It was a quick chase, but he caught the two giggling girls, and he carried them back into the living room, Alana thrown over his shoulder, Katie tucked under his arm.

He stopped short at the sight of Cas, who was standing next to Sam chatting with him. Both men turned and stared at Dean and the girls. Dean couldn't stop the grin at the sight of Cas smiling softly at him. The familiar feeling of hunger and want spread through him as he looked Cas over, taking in the tight blue jeans, oversized ridiculous sweater—Rudolph, with an actual blinking light for the nose—stubbled cheeks, plush lips, shining blue eyes, hair blown wild by the wind.

“Can you help carry stuff in?” Cas asked.

“Yeah.” Dean gently put the squirming girls down and brushed his hands on his jeans, following Cas from the room.

A midsized sedan sat in the driveway, trunk open. Dean let Cas lead and mutely took the wrapped boxes that Cas pulled out of the trunk and handed to him. Cas rummaged around, looking for something, what, Dean didn't know. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, get everything you needed?”

“Yes,” Cas said, apparently finding what he was looking for, a small box, and slipping it in his pocket. He turned to face Dean, his gaze soft, his lips curled up in a smile. He reached out, cupping Dean's jaw, brushing his thumb across Dean's cheek.

“You've got some glitter there.”

“Hazard of making snowflakes,” Dean croaked. He turned abruptly and strode inside, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach.

Cas didn't seem to react to his swift departure. He followed Dean inside and after directing Dean to put the packages under the tree, disappeared into the kitchen with Jess. The girls were helping Sam put ornaments on the tree, so Dean took advantage of everyone's distraction to commandeer the computer.

A quick search turned up nothing unusual, other than the date, which was Christmas Eve here. It'd been early December for Dean before. It didn't seem that anything strange, or what qualified as strange to a hunter, happened here. There was just no reason he could find for being here, and no way he could think of to get back.

Dean sighed, rolling his shoulders and lifting his arms above his head in a stretch. He only jumped a little when strong hands gripped his shoulders, rubbing and digging in. Dean couldn't stop the probably obscene moan that escaped because it just felt so damn good.

“You should try to relieve some stress.”

The rough words, whispered next to his ear caused him to shiver. He tilted his head back, looking up at Cas's hooded eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly.

“Helping,” Cas said with a shrug, his hands never faltering. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop.”

“I never want you to stop,” Dean admitted. He dropped his head forward onto his folded arms, letting the sensation of Cas's hands on him wash over him.

“Cas, Dean! Lunch is ready!” Jess's voice floated out from the kitchen.

“Yeah, in a minute,” Dean called out. He needed to adjust before he stood up and walked into a room with children.

“Don't take too long,” Cas said, giving Dean's neck a caress and dropping a kiss on the top of his head before walking away.

Dean watched him go. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. There was a reason he normally kept his touches with Cas casual. Just being near the angel caused his emotions to riot. It wasn't the first time Cas had caused an involuntary reaction, one he'd had to 'work' off later. Dean usually pushed such feelings and desires down, shoving them away because what place did they have in his life?

But what if he was stuck here? It'd only been half a day, but he'd looked and he couldn't find any reason why or how he'd gotten here, or even what the hell here was. He was sure his Sam and Cas were looking for him. They'd search his room, looking for clues and find…

The star. Was that what had done it? It was after touching it he wanted to decorate and get a tree, after all. And he'd handled it just before bed. He looked at the tree here, but it had an angel on top, a porcelain generic angel, brunette, with wings spread. So, if Sam and Cas found the star, they'd figure out how it worked and bring Dean back, right? Dean hoped so, hoped they'd rescue him before he had to figure out what to do about sharing a bed with Cas for the night.

“Dean?”

“Coming!” Dean answered Cas's call and stood up, heading to the kitchen.

~~*~~

The smell of warm, vanilla sweetness filled the house, making Dean’s mouth water. He went into the kitchen and, trying to be sneaky, stealthily approached the cooling cookies. He picked one up, tossing it hand to hand because it was frigging hot, and stuffed it in his mouth, with a slight groan at the sweet burst of flavor.

“Uncle Dean stole a cookie!” Alana was giggling, pointing at Dean.

He raised his eyebrows, his mouth full and shook his head, trying to chew and swallow quickly. Alana laughed when Jess turned and shook her spatula at Dean.

“You get to wash dishes now.”

“I’m innocent,” Dean protested around bits of cookie. He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer to wash it down.

“Uh, huh.” Jess did not sound impressed.

“Uncle Dean, help me decorate!”

“Sure, kiddo, what you got there?”

Dean walked over to Alana and looked over her shoulder. In front of her was a gingerbread person that was completely covered in a mound of icing. Alana was pushing bits of candy into the icing in a haphazard manner, making sure every inch was coated in some sort of sugar.

“You can do this one,” she said, pushing an angel at Dean.

He smiled and accepted the angel cookie, reaching for the black icing. Alana watched intensely as he outlined the wings in black, gave it wild black hair, then picked out the blue icing and made two bright blue dots for eyes.

“It looks like Uncle Cas,” Alana said, her eyes wide. “Can I show him?”

Before Dean could answer, she snatched the cookie up and ran out the room. Dean grabbed another cookie, eating it, darting past Jess who playfully swatted at him, and followed Alana into the living room. Cas was standing at the mantel, fixing the stockings on the rough brick, but he stopped when Alana ran excitedly up to him, holding the cookie out in front of her.

“It’s you, Uncle Cas! Uncle Dean made the angel look like you!”

“That’s very clever of Uncle Dean, don't you think?” Cas smirked at Dean. “Although I’m not sure I’m an angel.”

“Oh, you are,” Dean said weakly.

He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what to say, giving a rueful smile. He swallowed hard, his eyes going wide, when Cas moved towards him, holding the angel cookie up. 

“Want a bite?”

Dean obediently opened his mouth, allowing Cas to feed him the cookie. He chewed, but his mouth was dry and he coughed a bit on it. Cas reached up and swiped his finger against Dean’s lips.

“Icing,” he said in a rough voice, and he popped the finger in his mouth, sucking.

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this. He could stay calm and not cross this line. He opened his eyes to find Cas staring at him, head tilted, brow creased, concern in his eyes.

“Dean, are you…”

“I want to go outside and play.”

Katie pushed past Dean and Cas, breaking the moment, and tugged on her dad’s sleeve. “Please can we go outside and play?”

“I want to play too!” Alana yelled. She darted for the closet and pulled out her coat.

Cas looked like he was about to say something, but Dean gave him a weak smile and practically ran after the girls, following them into the snow.

~~*~~

Dean's luck was shit. He managed to avoid too much contact with Cas, keeping things light and casual as best he could, but as the day wore on, he could tell that he was causing Cas pain. It was evident in the looks he gave Dean, the way he withdrew, how he grew quiet. They were all signs Dean had seen, so many times before.

And now, it was night, the kids were settled in their bedroom, Sam and Jess had gone to their room, and it was just Cas and Dean in the living room, watching some horrible Christmas movie on TV. Dean fidgeted in his chair, glancing at Cas, who was sprawled on the couch, slumped down and gloomy.

Fuck this. Fuck holding back, and fuck his reservations, his excuses, and his issues. Dean stood up and walked over to the couch, tapping Cas's leg to get him to move. Cas gave him a guarded look but he shifted, crossing his arms, frowning.

“I'm sorry,” Dean said, running his hand along Cas's thigh. He began to lightly caress it, dragging his fingertips along the denim. “I've been a jerk today.”

“What's wrong, Dean?” Cas's voice was low, rough with pain.

“I just...” Dean shrugged and drew in a deep breath. “I haven't been feeling myself today and I realized it was making you feel bad, so, I'm sorry. Forgive me?”

He leaned in, tilting his head, lips hovering just over Cas's and waited. A soft sigh escaped when Cas met him, pressing his lips against Dean's. Dean groaned and lifted his hand, twining it in those enticing curls at the back of Cas's neck. He let Cas have control of the kiss, parting his lips when Cas's tongue traced them.

Cas slid his hands under Dean's shirt, lightly scratching his nails down Dean's back, making an approving sound in the back of his throat when Dean arched against him.

“Bed?” Cas asked, sliding one of his hands down to palm Dean's rapidly hardening cock.

"Hell, yes,” Dean answered.

He reluctantly stood and held out his hand, taking Cas's hand into his own. His heart was racing and he tried to control his breathing, because holy shit, he was actually going to do this. Briefly, the thought crossed his mind that he was somehow doing something wrong, that this wasn't his Cas. He pushed that thought away. He did want this with his Cas but this was here, real and right in front of him and he was going out on a limb and giving in to his desire.

“I'll meet you there,” Cas said, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist and pulling him in for a kiss. “Going to lock up.”

“Right.”

Cas finally pushed Dean away from him, smiling at his dazed look. Dean went into the bedroom, excitement and want setting his nerves on fire. He sat on the bed, trying to calm down a bit. He didn't have to wait long.

Cas walked into the room, his brow creased, a slight frown on his lips. Dean smiled at him and stood, walking up to him, slipping his shirt off, pushing his jeans down and leaving them in a puddle. Cas simply watched, entranced, as Dean pushed his hands under Cas's sweater, urging him to lift his arms and taking Cas's undershirt with it.

He ran his hands down Cas's skin, glancing up briefly, meeting desire darkened blue eyes, then he bent his head and flicked his tongue against Cas's nipple, drawing a groan from the other man. Cas cradled his head as he sucked and licked. Dean's hands weren't idle, he swiftly undid Cas's jeans and shoved at them. When Cas was finally naked, Dean lifted his head and kissed him, walking slowly back towards the bed, pulling Cas down with him.

They kissed, Dean’s hands wandering over silky skin, Cas’s hand wrapped firmly around Dean’s cock, stroking softly. Dean groaned when Cas reared back, looking down at him.

“Are you sure, Dean, that you want this?”

Dean searched his face. For just a second, Cas’s eyes flared with brilliant blue light and Dean sucked in a breath. His hands continued to move on Cas’s skin, Cas was still caressing him, and he wasn’t too surprised to find, yes, he was willing to take that leap. He smiled, nodding, and pulled Cas down for another kiss.

It wasn't Dean's first time with a guy, but as gentle as Cas was, Dean guessed he was Cas's first male partner. They took their time, teasing, kissing, tender with their touches. Dean almost lost it when Cas finally was inside him, not just from the incredible sense of being filled, but from the look of wonder on his angel's face. They moved together, awkward at first, then finding a rhythm, and when he came, Dean could swear he heard Cas say, “I love you.”

After, Dean lay in Cas's arms, head on his chest, listening to Cas snore softly and wondered just what the hell all this meant for him now.

~~*~~

“Dean, Dean, wake up. Please, you have to wake up. Why isn't he waking up?”

“He is, Sam. He can wake up at any time. I believe he's unwilling to leave.”

“Can't you make him, Cas?”

“It's his decision.”

The voices faded as Dean slowly woke up. He sighed softly and snuggled against Cas's side, idly tracing abstract designs on his chest.

“Sam is worried about you.”

Cas's voice rumbled through his chest. It took a moment for the words he said to sink in.

“Why...wait, what?”

Dean sat up, staring at Cas, who was lying with one arm behind his head, staring at Dean. Dean blinked at him and swallowed hard.

“Sam. He wants you to come back, Dean.”

Dean shifted away, drawing the blankets around his waist.

“When did you,” he gestured to the man in his bed, “become _you_?”

“After you separated, and you went into the room alone,” Cas admitted. “It took some time to move through the spell cast on you.”

“Okay,” Dean said, closing his eyes and trying to center, taking a deep breath. He rolled out of bed and looked for his jeans, pulling them on.

“Dean, you're trapped in a dream world of your own making. It's influenced by the star, but you are keeping yourself here.”

“I don’t know what to say to you, how to face you.” His voice cracked, and he sucked in a breath, rubbing both hands on his face.

Strong arms wrapped around him and he didn't resist when Cas pulled him close, rubbing his back soothingly.

“I almost didn’t say anything to you. I have wanted that, wanted you, for so long. I couldn’t do that. It would have been wrong.” Cas pulled back slightly and, gently, cradled Dean's face. “He was going to ask his Dean to marry him. This world, this dream, it's all created by you. In some way, this is what you want.”

“And now I have to go back to monsters and killing.” Dean sighed.

“But not alone,” Cas reassured. “Sam is waiting for you.”

“And you?” Dean asked, searching Cas's face.

Cas smiled brightly, his whole face lighting up.

“This is one Christmas present you can't return, Dean.”

“Lousy present, I mean, what did you get me?” Dean asked with a smile. He laughed when Cas scowled and kissed that scowl off his face. “So, I just wake up?”

“Yes, Dean, you just wake up.”

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep, measured breath. Cas stroked his back and he grounded on that sensation, the drag of his callouses on his skin, the light scratch of his nails, the sound of Cas breathing.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying on his bed in the bunker, Sam sitting in a chair next to the bed, and Cas sprawled on his side facing Dean, smiling.

Dean let Sam pull him into a crushing hug, but when Sam pressed him for details about his dream, he simply shook his head.

“I was beginning to think you weren't coming back,” Sam teased, but there was an edge to his voice.

“It was nice, but the real thing is better,” Dean said, giving Cas a smile. “What happened to the star?”

“We locked it up,” Sam said. “It was created to entrance a subject, trap them in a dream world. Apparently, the witch who created it would use the entranced victims for anything she wanted.”

“How long?”

“Just few days,” Cas answered.

“Then I haven't missed Christmas,” Dean quipped with a grin. “I'll have to make you get a turkey as big as yourself.”

He laughed at Cas's confused look and clapped him on the back.

“Come on, I'll teach you how to make cookies, and then we'll cream Sam in a snowball fight.”

“That's what you think,” Sam retorted, leading the way out of Dean's room.

Dean bit his lip and held out his hand, waiting, giving Cas the option to take it or not. His lips curved up in a smile when Cas slid his hand into Dean's, tugging him after Sam.


End file.
